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So, that was it for the Domínguez cartel. Taken down in one night by men and women who were kind of becoming pros at taking on South American cartels. If anyone ever wondered which one was more powerful, mafia or cartel, I think the answer was pretty clear. Of course, it couldn’t have been done without a fair number of Old Dogs who’d seemingly appeared out of nowhere. But that was a mystery for another day.
I smiled and leaned back deeper into Brute. “It sounds like you guys thought of everything.”
“You know, if we get going soon, we might still catch some action,” Gabe said, waggling his brows.
“I don’t know, Gabe,” Deo said, shaking his head. “I’m not sure Greta’s up to kicking some scumbag ass.”
“What are you talking about?” Brute objected, looking me over from head to toe.
I appreciated the heated look in his eyes because after the day I’d had, I was pretty sure I looked like something right out of a horror flick. A bad horror flick.
“She looks ready for battle to me,” he finished with a grin.
“Then, to the batmobile, Robin,” Leo said, grinning too.
“And that would make you Batman, I suppose?” I asked, arms crossed over my chest.
He shrugged. “When the shoe fits…”
“We can handle the cleanup, pres,” Tate offered, separating himself from the giant group of Old Dogs.
Where on earth they’d come from, I had no idea.
“Thanks, brother,” Brute said, clapping Tate on the back.
Brute took hold of my hand, and started toward the door.
“Come on, Mateo,” he called back over his shoulder. “Come and see how the good bad guys get shit done.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Greta
Three dozen bikers, all of them crammed into the Old Dogs’ clubhouse two days after our victory. And just in case the quarters weren’t close enough already, Costas, Lucas, and Lucianos had crammed in here too. Not all of them—thank God. Gabe and Leo,SignorLuciano and Deo. And of course, we couldn’t have left out the sweet butts (their word, not mine) who were salivating over all the potent male flesh that filled the space. And who could blame them?
“I’d just like to thank my brothers for riding out here to lend us a hand,” Brute said from where he stood in front of the bar, holding a glass high in the air.
Apparently, while I’d been hanging out with Domínguez, he’d made a call to nearby charters, and more than two dozen men had dropped what they were doing and made the trek out here to help the president of their club’s mother chapter.
“We couldn’t have done it without you. I owe you all more than my life,” he said, looking pointedly at me. “Cheers!” he hollered, and all the people in the room followed suit, downing another shot of the endless bottles that had appeared throughout the past two days.
With Brute’s toast finished, it was my turn.
I climbed up on the bar and whistled for attention, drawing all eyes in my direction, though they were looking a little too excited all of a sudden.
“I’m afraid not, boys,” I said, shaking my head good-naturedly. “I’m up here to talk, not strip.”
I think the whole room sighed in collective disappointment.Ugh, men.They only ever had one thing on their minds. Okay, so maybe it was the same thing that was ever-present in my mind, but we weren’t talking about me at the moment.
“I promise you, though,” I said to the room, “any of you who know Brute—or me—will find this immensely entertaining, nonetheless.”
Brute looked up at me, his brows lifting quizzically. I bet he thought I’d hopped up here to give some “thanks so much for helping out” speech, but I had much bigger plans. Plans that were actually making my insides shake a little bit.
I smiled at him, then turned my attention elsewhere, searching for Dynamite in the crowd before I lost my nerve.
And there he was, his copper head pushing his way through the crowd toward me. He kept coming until he stood right in front of Brute with both of his hands behind his back.
“Grazie,”I said, then looked up at the crowd of men. Leo, Deo, andSignorLuciano were looking at me strangely, but Gabe was smiling. I hadn’t spoken a word about this, but I bet he’d figured it out.
